


(but all that matters) is that you have your good times

by carentans



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Good Parents Alert, Just Something Fun, Squint and You Miss it References, They Played Softball in College, They're Really in Love and It's Gross, Uh Lesbians, they have a little girl, why is this so long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-08 17:41:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18628105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carentans/pseuds/carentans
Summary: Bull and Johnny's daughter is over-enthusiastic, and they set about teaching her to play baseball in the backyard.





	(but all that matters) is that you have your good times

**Author's Note:**

> listen up i will write lesbians if i WANT TO  
> i had this idea... what if bull played softball in college bc what else is a lesbian to do  
> and then i imagined johnny playing softball as well and well this happened
> 
> bull goes by bull and johnny goes by johnny  
> willa calls them both mama  
> no i am not explaining tho i may have a prequel piece planned
> 
> absolutely dedicated to ollie bc u r my no. 1 fan who deserves all the randlemartin content in the world
> 
> warning: it's just cute and gross
> 
> ps. i do know how to play baseball, but i am also gay and stupid

It started out innocently enough.

Willa had come home from school, knees all scratched up and a spark in her eye. She’d gotten off the bus and run the entire way up the drive and hadn’t quite stopped to breathe yet.

“Mama!” she said, already abandoning her backpack and unraveling herself from her school uniform, discarding her jacket and headband and began working on the knots on her shoes. Willa had hardly made it into the kitchen and refused to slow down for a second.

“Hold on, Kiddo,” Bull replied, setting down the plate she’d been drying off. When she took a knee in front of her, Willa flopped onto the floor, kicking her feet up so Bull could work on the knots.

“You’ll never believe what I learned today!”

“You sure learn a lot of cool stuff at school, so I’m sure I won’t,” Bull assured naturally, as if Willa didn’t have a flair for dramatics and exaggerations and the most positive attitude towards absolutely everything.

Willa squirmed on the ground impatiently. “I learned how to play a new game today,” she began, rather matter-of-factly. “It is called Stick Ball, and it is really fun.”

Bull eased one shoe off followed by another before she noticed that Willa’s legs weren’t just dirty from her usual time on the playground. “I can’t wait to hear it, Will, but what’s happened to your knees?”

She sat up and looked at her skinny legs like she’d forgotten about the scratches and large band-aids covering each knee. “Oh! That’s from Stick Ball. I was pushed.”

Bull stopped in her untying and turned her full attention to her daughter. “Well, I don’t think that’s a very nice game. Doesn’t seem fair you get all scratched up.”

Willa presented her hands, showing the little scratches on her palm. “I was supposed to tell you that, uh, I saw the nurse, and she, uh,” she paused, trying to think of the words. “‘Cleaned me up!’”

As a mom, there wasn’t much she liked about this story. Stick Ball seemed to encourage rough play, and none of the teachers seemed to put a stop to it when people were getting hurt.

“Are you mad?” Willa asked, peering up at her.

“No, baby,” Bull promised. “I'm just a little frustrated.”

“Oh! Like how Mama gets when her phone rings at dinner or that time I drew on the walls.”

Bull cracked a smile. Before Willa, just about everything made Johnny a “little frustrated,” but now, things had certainly changed. When it came to their girl, she was the last to get mad, usually resorting more to being disappointed or upset..

Johnny wholeheartedly disliked the idea of being negative around Willa. She wasn’t often that negative around Bull, either, but she was far more careful with their daughter.

“Yeah, kinda like that.” She nodded. “Why don’t we go to the bathroom and get you all patched up, and you can tell me more about Stick Ball.”

Willa jumped up at a speed Bull still hadn’t gotten used to. Where she had gotten this unlimited resource of energy that allowed her to go and go and go was a mystery.

She led the way to Bull and Johnny’s bathroom and sat down on the edge of the tub and waited, swinging her legs so her heels lightly thudded on the side.

Willa wasn’t exactly a careless or clumsy child. she was just full of life and unafraid of doing the things she had her mind set to do. She was stubborn, hard headed (in a good way, too, since she’d hit her noggin a handful of times and turned out okay), and it wasn’t uncommon for her to come home with a new scab or scratch or torn uniform. So, they’d learned to be prepared and had quite the cache of medical supplies hidden away.

“The nurse said she cleaned these scratches, but I'm going to do it again just to be safe, okay?” Bull informed, finding a cotton ball and getting the antiseptic spray. “Might hurt a little.”

Willa squeezed her eyes shut but held out her hands unflinchingly. There were times when cuts or bumps or thorns made her cry, but generally those tears were drying a few breaths later.

“All clear,” Bull said, and Willa relaxed, though she hadn’t been affected. “Tell me about this ‘Stick Ball.’”

“Okay!” Willa replied excitedly. “So you have to use a bat and a tennis ball, and someone throws the ball, and someone hits it. And you gotta run to the slide before they catch it. And if they tag you, you’re out, and you have to go to the back of the line.”

“Sounds a little like baseball.”

“No, it’s not baseball,” Willa corrected, even though Bull was fairly sure she probably didn’t know much about the sport to begin with. “It’s Stick Ball. Kevin told us how to play. His brother showed him, and he’s in _sixth_ grade. He knows what he’s talking about.”

Bull nodded seriously. “I think I'm understanding now.” She unrolled the bandage and snipped the end. “Hand, please,” she requested, and began wrapping up her injury. “So, tell me how you got these scratches.”

“Oh! That’s the fun part. The other team doesn’t want you to touch the slide. Someone runs after the ball because they wanna tag you with it. It has to hit you so you’re out. But the other people on the team can help if you hit it really far. They block the slide and stop you from touching the ladder,” Willa said, watching as Bull carefully wound the bandage around her other hand. “And I hit the ball really, really far! Like, it went all the way to the swings! So I started running, and I got pushed down, and I fell on the rocks, but I was still touched the slide!”

“Well, that doesn’t seem very nice at all,” Bull argued, tucking the bandage. “It sounds a little mean, if people can just push you down when you’re running.”

“Those are the rules, Mama.”

“I know, Willa. but sometimes, rules can be mean spirited. You know what that means?” Willa shook her head. “It means sometimes they’re meant to be mean. Like this was a game made just to push people down.”

“Oh,” Willa replied. She was torn between defending her friends and this new game she had absolutely fallen in love with, but she cared a lot for her parents, and her loyalty was unwavering.

“I don’t know for sure. But I don’t think I would like playing that game very much,” Bull said. “It doesn’t really seem fair or fun. I don’t really like getting pushed down.”

Willa nodded, but there was a frown on her face, and the spark in her eye had flickered out.

It broke Bull’s heart to see, and she turned away to pack up the supplies and return them to the top self of the cabinet.

“So I can’t play Stick Ball anymore?” She questioned, and Bull wondered exactly when she had gotten so smart to pick up on all the things she hadn’t said aloud.

“Well, do you want to come home everyday with scratches?” Bull asked. “What if you played tomorrow, and got pushed down again? You could really get hurt.”

Willa stared down at her newly bandaged hands. “What am I supposed to do during recess? Everyone wants to play Stick Ball, and it wouldn’t be fun to sit out.”

“What if you had a new game to play?” Bull suggested. “What about baseball?”

“Huh?”

Bull reached out, helping Willa off the tub. “How are your knees feeling? Think you’re up for some running?”

 

##

 

Johnny was going to kill Bull.

When she got home, the house was empty. Willa’s backpack and shoes laid discarded in the kitchen, and Bull had obviously been working on dinner, handfuls of pasta spilled near a pot that had yet to be put on the stove.

It wasn’t all that unusual since Bull sometimes liked to scoop Willa away on spontaneous adventures after school, but habits had to change.

Johnny turned off the burner that had been forgotten and noticed Bull’s phone on the counter. She let out an exasperated sort of noise, just wishing her wife could plan things a bit more thoroughly when it came to their daughter.

She didn’t know how far they could have gotten if Willa wasn’t even wearing her shoes, and Bull hadn’t taken her car, but it wasn’t exactly like she could just call her up and ask.

She headed to their room and changed from her work clothes. Their closet wall bordered the backyard, and Johnny heard a distant squeal more than likely came from Willa.

Their kitchen had a large glass door that opened into the backyard, but Johnny had been too preoccupied with the state of the kitchen to notice them out there.

Johnny pulled on the well-loved _‘Welcome to Georgia’_ sweatshirt Bull had gotten years ago when they’d been stranded at the Atlanta airport and headed outside.

She stood on the porch for a few minutes, left to figure out exactly what the two of them were up to before being noticed by Willa.

“Mama!” she shouted, tossing the bat and rushing the porch, crashing into Johnny with her arms spread. Fortunately, Willa was not very big and her impact didn’t knock them over, so Johnny just wrapped her up in a hug.

“Hi, Will,” Johnny managed before Willa’s mouth caught up with her body, and she started talking at a breakneck speed.

“- and Mama wrapped up my hands!” She explained finally and stepped back to present her hands. “And then we came outside, and now we’re playing _ball!_ Did I say that right?” Willa questioned, turning to face Bull, who’d just made it up the steps.

“That’s right. You sound like a real ball player,” Bull agreed and pressed a kiss to Johnny’s cheek in lieu of interrupting Willa’s story.

“Wait, slow down. Mama wrapped up your hands?” Johnny asked, holding her bandaged hands. “When did you get hurt?”

Willa bounced on her toes, impatient already about having to explain herself a second time. “At school. I got pushed down after I hit the ball, and I hurt my hands and my knees. But Mama made them better. And now she’s teaching me baseball!”

“Oh,” Johnny said slowly and turned towards Bull expectantly. “So she got you fixed up, and then decided it was a good idea to run you around some more?”

“Aw, John, it ain’t like that.” Bull protested.

“Yeah, because no one ever gets hurt playing ball, right?”

“I wanted to give her another game to play at school so she _doesn’t_ get hurt anymore. I'm just explaining the rules and throwing some balls to hit,” Bull said, and Johnny narrowed her eyes.

“How do you feel, baby?” Johnny asked, looking back to Willa. “You know sometimes when you get hurt, it’s a good idea to take it slow for a while.”

Fortunately, Willa was still young enough to not notice when Bull and Johnny started in on the occasional squabble. “Mama, I’m _fine,_ ” she whined, far more focused on the idea of playing than standing around to talk.

Johnny gave her a look, but so far, Willa had proven to be entirely immune. Maybe it was because she was too sweet or too oblivious to notice, but it made Johnny love her all the more.

“Miss Willa says she’s just fine, Johnny,” Bull said, in a tone that sounded a lot like she was about to get exactly what she wanted. “But if you’re really so concerned, why don’t you come out and join us?”

“Yeah!” Willa agreed.

“I don’t know -”

“We’re just throwin’ ‘round the ball. Not even slow pitch speed.”

Johnny’s shoulder ached a little at the thought. She always figured there would be a time when Willa might be interested in playing baseball, and that would require her to be involved in the practicing. Bull touched her wrist and offered her a small smile.

“You were always better at pitchin’ than me, anyways. Could just switch it up and throw leftie. Hell, John, I think you could outthrow half the team with that arm.”

“Now, you know that ain’t true.”

Bull grinned. “Willa, did you know Mama used to be on that team I was tellin’ you about?” She questioned, knowing she had the winning play. “We used to be teammates, and that’s how we met and how I made your Mama fall in love with me.”

“ _R_ _eally?_ ” Willa asked, the wonder evident across her face. She jumped where she stood, excitement fueled by a newfound energy. “You gotta play with us, Mama. You _gotta_.”  

“Oh, I ‘ _g_ _otta_ ’? Sounds like you’ve been around your Mama too much and think you’ll get everything you ask for,” Johnny replied.

“Mama, _please_.”

Johnny huffed but relented. It didn’t seem fair that she’d do just about anything for their daughter to make her happy, and apparently Willa _knew_ that. Bull knew that, too, but she had always been more easily swayed by Willa’s charm.

“Okay, fine,” Johnny said and caught Willa by her shirt before she could go shooting off back into the yard. “But I’ll be teaching you the right way to play, not the fake rules your Mama probably told you.”

The moment she released her shirt, their kid jumped down the stairs and bounded through the grass to retrieve the bat she’d thrown around so carelessly. Willa clutched the cheap plastic, holding the bat upright and shuffled her feet into more of a batter’s stance.

“Play ball!” Willa shouted, even though Johnny and Bull had yet to make it all the way into the yard.

Bull picked up the ball and tossed it Johnny’s way with familiar ease. She didn’t have to think much about catching it, and rolled the ball in her hand, trying to think of the last time she’d even played the game.

“Where’d you find a baseball?” Johnny questioned.

They had both kept their softball gear from college, spare uniforms and sliding pants folded up neatly, accompanied by hair ribbons and cleats. Bull’s catcher’s gear was tucked away with Johnny’s gloves, as well as their selection of bats and hats and softballs collected through the years.

“In the garage,” Bull said and shrugged.

The ball had probably been left on accident, but Johnny wasn’t questioning it. She didn’t exactly want to throw a softball at their daughter, even if they took it slow. A baseball wasn’t much better, but it wasn’t like they’d gone out of their way to push their daughter into being interested in the sport. They were lucky enough to have a plastic kid’s bat and a ball.

Johnny walked closer to Willa and watched as Bull shifted her stance, explaining how to hold the bat the right way. It didn’t look like the first time Bull had made these corrections today, but she’d always been a patient teacher.

Taking a flailing practice swing, Willa rocked around with the force of the follow-through.

“How’d that feel?” Bull asked, and when they made eye contact after Willa’s enthusiastic nod, they shared a grin.

“Okay, I’m ready, Mama,” she announced, looking over once she’d lined herself back up in a wide batter’s stance. Johnny had to wonder where she’d gotten all of this confidence, like she had somehow known her parents had been more than a little good at the sport.

Bull walked behind Willa, keeping a safe enough distance to avoid getting wacked in the head and crouched down. Johnny backed up just a few paces and nodded to the both of them.

“Here it comes,” Johnny warned.

She lobbed the ball underhand, willing the ball a slow speed.

Willa swung the bat wildly, unused to the airy weight of it in her hands. The swing chased after the ball, and she promptly tumbled to the ground. Barely a breath later, she was reduced to giggles.

Bull had caught the ball and sent it back Johnny’s way before moving to Willa.

“You okay, Will?” Johnny checked, already closing the distance between them. Usually when Willa was actually hurt, she would announce it, no matter how little emotion she might show. Johnny wasn’t too concerned for her, but she wasn’t going to let the incident go unchecked.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I didn’t teach you to do _that_. You’re making me look bad in front of your Mama,” Bull teased, pulling Willa back to her feet. “Now you know why I told you not to swing really hard.”

Willa hadn’t quieted down yet, having gotten infected with the giggle but was having too much fun to be concerned with whether she was good or bad. “Again!” She said and jumped back into her exaggerated stance, wagging the bat like she’d done this a thousand times.

Johnny exchanged a look with Bull before they returned to their previous positions.

“And the ball is in play!” Johnny said and watched as Willa fumbled through another over-eager swing.

 

##

 

Their new after school activity took place in the backyard.

Willa made her way through the house in a storm, leaving behind her school things and picking up her ball things she was responsible for placing by the backdoor after they had finished playing.

Bull could barely get a word in until they were both in the yard and the bat was in Willa’s hands. She could not be persuaded by conversations or snacks to take a break, and the only thing that kept her indoors was rain. On those days, she mournfully sat at the window and was in quite the unpleasant mood.

They bought a better plastic bat after their first one had been damaged from a particularly hard swing by Bull and had an ever-diminishing collection of wiffle balls that Willa enjoyed stealing away for school recesses. Bull and Johnny tried to convince Willa she might need a tee to bat from, but no amount of rationalizing worked.

Willa adamantly opposed the tee. Instead, she stubbornly worked and worked until she could hit an underhand pitch. These hits weren’t always very good, but Bull rarely caught the ball when Johnny was there to pitch.

The side door open, followed by the familiar sounds of Willa dropping everything she carried. “Mama!” She called, rushing through kitchen into the living room. Vaulting onto Bull’s legs, Willa cuddled up to her on the couch in a friendly greeting. “It’s time to play!”

“Oh, yeah?” Bull asked, pausing the television and wrapping her arms around her daughter. “Are you sure you don’t just want to sit here with me?”

“No!” She whined, squirming out of the hold and tugging on Bull’s hands to get her up. “You promised!”

“You know, sometimes afternoons are the _best_ time to take a nap.”

Willa groaned, using her whole weight in an attempt to get her up, leaning back dangerously towards the ground. “We can nap later. We have to go right now!”

She had a point. The weather was beginning to change, and the days were getting shorter, and soon, the afternoons would barely be long enough for her to hit a few balls.

The last thing she wanted was a grumpy Willa who felt put out she hadn’t been given the time to run around excessively. Bull was certain she got plenty of time for that at school, but her energy always seemed to keep on going, and the more they could tire her out, the better.

“You got me, Will,” she agreed, getting off the couch and making sure Willa didn’t completely fall to the ground from all her pulling.

Willa sprinted out the door while Bull stretched, shaking off the last of the sleepiness from an afternoon on the couch. Sticking her head back inside, Willa waved Bull outside enthusiastically.

“Where’s your bat, kid?” She questioned. Willa had grown ridiculously fond of hitting, and she never seemed to mind chasing after the balls no matter where the bounced.

Willa brandished the baseball Bull had found in the garage. “Wanna throw today,” she said easily.

Bull let out a quiet laugh. Their daughter never failed to surprise her, with likes and dislikes shifting from day to day and new interests springing up one moment after another. She seemed to be all-around interested in this new activity she had discovered, and Bull had to give it to her. At least, she was motivated to learn, to actually put in time to become better than giving up when it got difficult.

While Bull realized there had been the possibility that their kid might like sports, baseball in particular, she never quite imagined herself here, playing catch in the backyard to appease those demands. Both her and Johnny had grown up at the ball fields, spending afternoons at practices and sleepily eating late-night dinners after long games. She figured they’d have it in them to do it again, if anything just as payback for all the years of suffering they’d put their parents through.

“You know your Mama is better at that than me,” Bull warned. “If you ask her nicely, I’m sure she’d even teach you how to pitch.”

Willa shook her head, waiting rather impatiently for Bull to join her in the yard. “It’ll be dark by the time Mama gets home.”

“All right,” Bull agreed, clapping her hands together to call for the ball. “Show me what you’ve got.”

They didn’t stand very far apart, and yet, a few of Willa’s throws bounced lowly on the ground. She got a little overconfident after a while, deciding that if she stepped forward with her throws she could send the ball well over Bull’s head and further into the yard.

“Now, that ain’t fair,” Bull said, just barely missing the overhead catch and turning behind her to look where the ball rolled off to. “Those suckers are all yours to run after since you wanna start showing off.”

Willa didn’t seem to mind having to chase down the balls, giggling after wild passes and her attempts to get the ball back to Bull from wherever it had landed originally.

“Mama said you were good at catching the ball,” Willa said and lobbed the ball high. She let out an excited squeal when Bull timed the drop, reaching around behind her to catch the ball.

“That’s right. ‘cept I was usually down on the ground to catch the ball. And I could rely on my pitcher could throw the ball right at me,” she teased.

Willa was overcome with laughter as she tried to speak again. “But if you were so good, why can’t you catch what I’m throwin’?”

Bull let out a dramatic gasp like she’d been hurt by Willa’s words. Theoretically, she was right, and maybe if Bull tried a little harder like she would have during a game, she’d be able to catch all of her wild throws.

“She’s right,” Johnny cut through before Bull had thought of a clever enough explanation. “Guess your Mama’s gotten old and isn’t as good as she used to be.”

Willa was delighted by the exchange, too caught up in her giggling to run over and greet Johnny. Johnny stood on the porch, having already changed from her work clothes before joining in the afternoon activities that seemed to include tormenting Bull.

Bull huffed, but she was none too offended by the grin Johnny had on her face. “Oh, yeah?” She called back. “And what about you? Guess you’re just a spring chicken, ready to run laps and play a double hitter without complaining, huh?”

She followed that by throwing the ball at her. Fortunately, Johnny had the good sense to catch it, or they might have had to deal with a shattered window from a wayward ball.

“All you gotta do is catch the ball. Just stick your hand out and catch it. Easy,” Johnny teased and sent the ball sailing back to Bull.

Bull grabbed the ball, it making a resounding _smack_ against her palm. “Aw, this wasn’t about you anyways,” Bull responded with a grin, dropping the ball from one hand to the other. “Geez, Johnny,” she said, shaking her hand out, “I ain’t wearing my glove. Y’know it’s been a long time since I caught a ball going that fast.”

“I wanna catch one,” Willa whined, popping up in front of Bull and eyeing the ball in her hand. “Mama, throw it to me.”

Bull knew Johnny would never even consider throwing a true overhand pitch to their kid. Even if Willa was a little bit bigger or had a glove or was better at baseball, Johnny wasn’t about to risk hitting their kid with a ball.

Regardless, Bull encouraged the opportunity. “Aw, Kid, I dunno if you can handle it. Mama sure does throw hard,” she said, and winked at Johnny who’d decided to join them in the grass. “She was known for throwing the ball fast, and I just don’t know if you’re ready...”

“I _am_! Oh, please! Lemme do it. I’m really good at catching the ball,” Willa assured earnestly.

She had no shortage of confidence in her abilities, even if she had just begun to learn. Willa was just as steadfast as always, refusing to back down from a challenge.

“ _One_ ball,” Johnny promised. “And if you end up being able to catch it... well, I think we can officially say you’re better than your Mama at catching.”

Willa jumped at the idea, clinging to Bull’s arm to speed her up, like she’d somehow be able to pass the ball over with her weight impeding her movements. “Come on, Mama. Let me show you how it’s done.”

Bull laughed, pleasantly surprised with how suave Willa was. “Well, all right... Why it’d be an honor to be taught by you, Willa.”

She wasn’t quite sure where this sassiness had come from, but it was too cute to deny. Bull would probably never hear the end of it if Willa caught the ball, as she’d likely gloat about her glorious feat. They’d encouraged it, after all, and Bull was hardly one to be offended, especially when it came to their daughter.

“It’s all you, now, Mama,” she teased, passing the ball to Johnny. “Don’t even think about going easy on her,”

Johnny waved Willa further out, and they watched as she bounced on her toes, determined.

“Ready?”

Willa nodded quickly, both hands open wide.

“Here’s the moment of truth -” Johnny alleged, winding up just to spin the ball at an achingly slow speed.

Willa soared into action, wrestling the ball from the air with both hands and catching it against her body. She let out a noisy yell, tossing the ball away in excitement as she ran back towards them.

“Didja see me?” She questioned happily, making a beeline for their attention, as if she didn’t already have all of it. “I did it. It was _so_ easy. I caught it!” She grinned, leaping towards Bull.

She knew that Bull had always been there to catch her, to sweep her up into secure arms no matter how far away she jumped.

“You did it!” Bull celebrated, pulling Willa up to position her on her hip. She was almost getting to be too big to be held in such a way, but Bull wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. “You’re a _pro_ , Will. Absolutely blew me outta the water.”  

Willa reached out for Johnny, excitedly grabbing her hand. “I did it, Mama!”

“It was incredible,” Johnny agreed. “I’m gonna call up all the best colleges and the Major Leagues and see if they’re in need of some amazing talent.” Willa giggled loudly, shaking her head. “You’re a natural. Got my good baseball skills instead of your Mama’s here.”

Willa smiled so hard her cheeks puffed up and her eyes squinted. “Don’t worry, Mama,” she promised Bull sincerely. “I’ll help you get better. That way we can all be good together.”

Bull laughed and so did Johnny. She held her closer and gave her a noisy and overdone ‘thank you’ kiss on the cheek.

Bull figured it wouldn’t be so bad watching Willa run around on the field, no matter how many long afternoons of practice and play they put in.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Not representational of the real men. Solely based off the portrayals from the HBO series.
> 
> 2\. Kinda edited. Sometimes unrealistic.
> 
> 3\. Title credit to _Ten Thousand Words_ by The Avett Brothers.
> 
> 4\. Follow me on tumblr @ capnixons .


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